


Hair of Gold

by eugeneismyqueen, icarusmoon



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, F/M, New Dream, Pirates, Pirates AU, Tangled AU, just emily and katie fulfilling our soft and sexy tangled pirate fantasies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eugeneismyqueen/pseuds/eugeneismyqueen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusmoon/pseuds/icarusmoon
Summary: What if Flynn Rider wasn't just a thief, but a pirate captain instead? Rapunzel manages to escape Mother Gothel and her tower all on her own and finds her way aboard Captain Flynnigan Rider's pirate ship, promising him of her usefulness with the magical healing abilities of her hair. But a pirate ship is no place for a girl who wishes for freedom and the sea-hardened Flynnigan can't help the undeniable attraction he feels growing for Rapunzel. In an alternate universe of the Tangled world, will Rapunzel and Eugene still be each other's New Dreams?
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Rapunzel, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 15
Kudos: 21





	Hair of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoy this collab as much as Katie and I have enjoyed writing it! If you don't mind, please give this fic kudos and leave us a comment letting us know what you think so far! Thank you for reading <3<3

The pirate captain did not notice the girl with seventy feet of blonde hair enter the Snuggly Duckling. He was nearing the bottom of his third round of ale, and he was too busy surveying his crew. He watched as they cheated each other through darts and cards and finished round after round of drinks, singing and stumbling around the joint, enjoying their last few hours on land before they were to depart again. It had been a good trip in Corona, but Captain Flynnigan Rider was itching to get back to the sea and move on.

“Are we setting sail in the morning, Captain?” 

Flynnigan looked over at the man who had addressed him. “Aye, Hookhand. We leave at first light.”

“Excuse me? Did you say you’re leaving Corona in the morning?” 

Flynnigan did not expect the feminine voice to belong to such a pretty thing. She was right at his arm, leaning a little close to hear him over the noise in the pub. She had bright green eyes, a tight corset, and golden hair that went on for miles. Literally. It trailed out of the door. “Aye, lass. What’s it to you?”

She clapped her hands and smiled, and he swore it lit up the dingy place for a moment. “Oh! That’s perfect! Will you take me with you? Please?” 

She batted her eyes at him and the other men around the table erupted into gales of laughter. Flynnigan chuckled, too, wrapping a heavy arm around her and tugging her to his side. She tumbled over onto his lap, surprised at his advancement. 

“What are you doing!? Get off! I just need you to take me away from Corona!”

“Oh, I can take you away from Corona, alright,” Flynnigan laughed. His eyes darkened with lust and his voice had dropped an octave deeper. “Who paid for this wench for their captain? Was it you, Lance?” 

“Not me, Flynn! I certainly wouldn’t share a girl like that with you,” Lance laughed. He eyed the petite girl in Flynn’s lap, who was struggling and pushing at the arm he had wrapped around her waist.

“Please! You don’t understand!” she cried. “I need to leave Corona and escape my mother.”

Flynnigan snickered. He didn’t mind when a prostitute did a little roleplaying, but this was borderline sad. “You’d do better at the brothel, Blondie.”

She stopped for a minute and just stared at him. If his mind wasn’t so fuzzy with alcohol he might have noticed how serious she was. Fear and determination were in her eyes as she shoved at his chest until he finally released her. 

“Listen. I have something to show you,” she said.

“I bet you do,” he cut in. The men around the table burst into laughter again.

“Cut it out!” she hollered, jumping to her feet. “Please! I’m serious! I have to show you something that will prove to you I am useful to have on your ship.”

He grinned again, enjoying where this was going. “Alright then, Blondie. Show me.”

She quickly glanced around, her eyes darting from side to side. “I can’t. Not here…”

Flynnigan cocked an eyebrow and smirked. His men whistled.

“Alright. Let’s go to my room upstairs, then.” Flynn grinned, getting to his feet.

The men started to ooh and ahh, laughing and whistling at Flynnigan as he made a show of getting up and following the unusual prostitute upstairs. 

Once inside his room, he shut the door and locked it. He began to undo his vest and remove his boots before turning back around to face the girl, who was starting to look more and more cross.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, bewildered at his actions as he shrugged out of his vest.

“I—” Flynnigan’s mouth hung open. “Are you a prostitute?”

“A _what_?” She looked even more confused than he was. But then she shook her head. “I need you to take me with you when you leave Corona tomorrow. I think I could be really useful.”

He sighed. This girl was adamant, that was for sure. “And what makes you so damn useful, Blondie?”

“Well, I—I have magical hair that glows and heals when I sing.”

Flynnigan snorted. He knew he hadn’t had _that_ much to drink. “Bullshit.”

“It’s the _truth_.”

Flynnigan glared at the blonde girl, wondering what the hell he had done to deserve this. 

Well. He probably deserved worse. All things considered, he’d take the awkward, frantic girl with long blonde hair. She was cute, at least. 

“Sorry, Blondie,” Flynnigan said with another sigh. He buttoned his vest and turned towards the door, hoping that she wouldn’t follow him. He didn’t have time to deal with strange girls, especially one who lied about her hair. “I don’t believe in magic.” 

The girl cursed and lunged forward, causing Flynnigan to stumble back in surprise. His back slammed into the door. He grunted, still half drunk and trying to remember why you weren’t supposed to fight women. In one movement, she grabbed the dagger from his belt and yanked his right hand towards her, muttering to herself as she inspected the back of his hand. 

“What are—”

She twisted his wrist and sliced through his open palm, staring in horror as blood began to seep from the cut.

Flynn hissed out in pain. “Fucking _hell_ , Blondie!” 

He snatched his hand back, instinctively pulling the end of his shirtsleeve to the cut. But the wound was too deep for it to do any good; he needed proper medical attention. If he weren’t so pissed off, he would have been impressed. Blondie sure didn’t look like the type who would brandish a knife. 

But she was clearly horrified, taking several deep breaths as she slid the dagger into her corset, using its laces as a scabbard. Through the haze of pain from his stinging cut and the alcohol still burning his mind, he recognized _that_ look in her eyes. It was as though she had suddenly become something she’d always feared, and Flynnigan had enough experience with pirates to know it wasn’t always the same as being sorry. 

It just meant she hated doing what had to be done. 

Her wide eyes darted from Flynnigan’s blood-soaked sleeve to his face. “Give me your hand,” she whispered. 

“So you can mutilate me again? Why the fuck would I do that?”

“No! Please, just let me—”

“ _No_.” 

“But I wasn’t lying! I can fix it. _Please_.” 

Before Flynnigan could protest, she pounced and grabbed his arm. He cursed as she pulled his hand towards her—he hated to admit it, but his hand _hurt_ —and began to wrap her long hair around the wound. 

“I don’t know what your other clients are into,” Flynnigan growled, “But I did not ask for this, so I’m not paying.”

Then, she did something very strange. She began to sing. 

_“Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine…”_

She hadn’t been lying.

Her hair _did_ glow when she sang. It turned a brilliant shade of gold —really _gold_ , like the sun or pieces of eight. The light traveled from her roots to the ends of her long hair, all the way to Flynn’s open wound. His hand felt warm, and slowly started to grow numb. 

“What the _fuck?_ The fuck are you _doing?”_ He started to panic, swears flying from his mouth as he tried to tug his hand away. But she kept her grip and kept singing.

_“...Bring back what once was mine.”_

She dared a glance up at his face. He couldn’t decide between fuming rage or complete, bewildered awe.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, unwrapping tendrils of hair from Flynn’s hand. “But you didn’t believe me.” 

Flynnigan looked down at his hand, still hanging in the air between them. Healed _. Completely healed._ There wasn’t even a scar to show that anything had ever happened. Maybe he was dreaming. Except his shirtsleeve was still stained with his blood. 

His gaze flickered from his hand to her wide eyes. They were standing so close that he could see her eyes were now sparkling with tears. He could have brushed the loose strand of hair from her face and counted the freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. 

“I just had to make you believe me. I need you to take me away from here.”

Something like pity pulled at his heartstrings, and he almost wanted to tell her to keep running. Whatever she was searching for couldn’t be found on an island or the depths of the sea. 

But she had magical golden hair, and she was desperate, and that was something that any pirate would take advantage of. 

_Wasn’t it?_

Flynn narrowed his eyes. “You can heal _any_ injury?”

“Yes.” 

“So you’re used to this kind of thing?” he continued, raising an eyebrow. “You can save any of us from certain death?”

She nodded vigorously. “I can keep people young forever, too. Keep them from getting sick.”

He eyeballed her again.

“And I’m willing to bet I’m more valuable than any gold you’ll find,” she added. She was staring at him with that fierce determination again. It was unnerving, that stare, and the desperation in her voice made Flynn’s blood run cold. It was too familiar. 

Flynnigan sighed. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t fucking believe it, but emotions aside, he’d be a fool to refuse her offer. 

“Well, Blondie. I suppose you’re in luck. My cook just quit on me, and good help is hard to find.” 

Their last cook had actually been killed. But she didn’t need to know that. 

If there was anything Captain Rider understood more than running his ship, it was this desperation—this yearning for freedom he recognized in her. He’d run from the demons of his past for so long, he’d become one of them. He saw a bit of himself in this sad girl. She had an edge and she was desperate for a fresh start. 

She was just lucky he was a merciful captain.

“You mean it?” she breathed, happy tears about to pool over and run down her cheeks. 

“I mean it,” Flynnigan sighed.

“Oh! Oh, thank you—?” 

“Flynnigan. Captain Flynnigan Rider.” He held out his freshly healed hand for her to shake.

“Thank you so much Flynnigan!” She choked on a sob and threw her arms around his neck.

“Hey, get off!” He shoved her away. Maybe he was still a little bitter because she wasn’t a prostitute after all. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Rapunzel.”

“Gesundheit.” 

She glowered at him, raising his dagger and pointing it at his throat. “I will use this.”

He swiped it from her. “No, you won’t. That’s my favorite dagger. Touch it again, and I won’t be such a nice captain anymore, got it?” 

She nodded, clearly scared. He sighed. She was going to be a fun addition to the crew. 

He swept a hand through his hair, which was loose and hung down around his shoulders. He normally kept it tied back and it was driving him a bit mad. 

“Ship leaves in the morning. Do you think you can meet me downstairs at dawn, Rapunzel?”

“I’ll be there,” she said. She looked like she meant it.

Flynn returned downstairs to his table, his men smirking and laughing over the good time they were certain their captain had just enjoyed. But he was too lost in thought, all background noise softening to a dull buzz in his head. Everything that just happened was bizarre, which for Flynn, was saying something. He looked at his hand again, running his fingers over his palm. It looked even better than it had before Rapunzel cut it. Like her hair had not only healed the cut, but had smoothed out years of weathering that had toughened his hands. 

He couldn’t help thinking about the desperation and the sadness in her eyes. He had been down that path, but she looked like she was being haunted—or hunted. He wasn’t sure which was worse. _What the hell had that girl been through?_

Flynn didn’t like that look in her eyes. He didn’t like that she reminded him of himself, or of all the things he had spent years trying to forget. And he had actually felt _sorry_ for her. He thought he had left sympathy behind long ago.

He was starting to worry a pirate ship wouldn’t be the escape she was seeking. What then? 

He half hoped she wouldn’t show up.


End file.
